
QUIET 



WATERS 



PS 3545 
.fl35 Q5 
1921 

Copy 1 jQ-y- 



BLANCHE 
SHOEMAKER 
^^^AG STAFF 




' 



Class JES15 
Book .A^S'QS" 
Copyright]^? 



CCEaUGHT DEPOSnV 



QUIET WATERS 



QUIET WATERS 



BY 
BLANCHE SHOEMAKER WAGSTAFF 

Author of 

"Eris," ''Atys," "Alcestis," ''Narcissus," 
"The Book of Love," etc, etc. 




NEW YORK 
MOFFAT, YARD AND COMPANY 



1921 






GOPYRIGHT, 1921. BY 
MOFFAT, YARD AND COMPANY 



JUN 27 1922 

©CI.A674726 



CONTENTS 

Quiet Waters 13 

Frieze 14 

Visitation 15 

Garments 16 

Columns 17 

This One Hour 18 

Awe 19 

Procession 20 

Beauty Like Dawn Shed Over Me 21 

Contrasts 22 

Music 23 

Twilight 24 

City Sketch 25 

Sleep 26 

Ray 27 

May Night 28 

Dust and Shadow 29 

Query 30 

Captive 31 

Age 32 

Mona Lisa 33 

I Have Known All 34 

Farewell to the Mountains 35 

Future 36 

Hope 37 

Fear 38 

October 39 

Impression 40 

Comedy 41 

Time 42 

Winter Evening 43 

I Will Take the Lone Path 44 



CONTENTS 

Cities 45 

Blue Night 47 

Voices : Villa Pliniana 48 

Joy Has Come Unto My Door 50 

Kinship 51 

From the Weehawken Ferry 52 

Song of Freedom 53 

Pan 54 

I Shall Grow Old..... 55 

Spring Flowers 56 

My Garden 57 

So Quietly Love Came 58 

Hands That I Loved 59 

I Shall Not Count My Hours 60 

Japanese Girl 61 

The Days Gone By 62 

A Daughter to Her Mother 63 

Tempo 64 

Refuge 65 

Song of the Weary Traveler 66 

Storm 67 

Joyce Kilmer 68 

Flower Show 69 

Let Spring Recall 70 

The Transport Sails 71 

1 Did Not Weep 72 

Only in the Songs I Sing 73 

Earth Trembles Waiting 74 

My Love is Coming Back To-Day 75 

All Paths Lead to You 76 

Marriage 77 

Butterflies 78 

Ares Lulovisi 79 

Magico 80 

Choice 83 

Pyre 84 

Firelight 85 

Doric 86 



CONTENTS 

Goblet 87 

Birds 88 

Tempest . . . . ' 89 

Fragrance 90 

White Birch 91 

Because of You. . 92 

Moonstone 93 

Lilies 94 

Nenuphar 95 

Rain 96 

Skein 97 

Mirror 98 

Amor Silentium 99 

Exaltation 100 

Enigma 101 

You Whom I Love To-Day 102 

Hermes 103 

Surfeit 104 

Renouncement 105 

Revelation 106 

SONNETS 

Peace Spread Your Wings 109 

The Miracle 110 

My Little Self Ill 

Mourn Not for Me 112 

I Have Loved Quiet 113 

Serene 114 

France Rearisen 115 

I Have Loved Beauty 116 

Gifts 117 

Clemenceau's Home — Stamford 118 

Edwin Markham 119 

A Mother to Your Son .120 

Finis 121 

Dedication 122 

Thanks 123 



A Word of Introduction 

"DLANCHE SHOEMAKER WAG- 
STAFF does not aspire to the epic 
theme and the grand manner. She es- 
says the heart warm human themes, 
themes that appeal, perhaps, to a wider 
audience. 

I notice that some of the poems are 
in the traditional form. Others are in 
the free form that the precisionists 
would take to be only the preliminary 
sketches of poems. But I am willing to 
let a poet bring her beauty in the loose 
structure of the meadow lark's nest as 
well as in the orderly pack of the 
oriole's pocket. All I ask is that the 
poet shall have a singing bird in any 
nest she brings. 

Blanche Wagstaff does not ride 
against life with leveled lance, crying 
a bitter challenge to the scheme of 
things : she comes with a wistful ques- 
tioning of existence, or with quiet ac- 
ceptance of the decrees of Fate. So we 
frequently find her at home in her lyric 
garden, recording the moods of the 
hour, telling of sight and sound and 
fragrance and flight of wing. She 
feels — 

"A kinship with the force of earth, the thrill 
That comes with Nature's sweetest intimacy, 
Some premonition of Eternity." 

[9] 



Or again she muses over the mystery 

"In every little seed that springs — 

The incommensurate wonder, 

The miracle of life issuing from the womb of earth." 

But love is the high enduring note in 
this little book — love for the beloved, 
love for native land, love for the won- 
der of nature, love for the hero in 
battle, love for the mystery of life and 
the mystery of death. In many moods 
and meters, Blanche Wagstaff sings of 
the love of a man for a maid — sings of 
the glad welcome, of the wild reluc- 
tance, of the happy communion, of the 
tender farewell. She sings also of the 
renunciation of love : 

"I will go out and forget love and be as a bird in 

the sky, 
Free with the soaring breezes and the clouds that 

wander by. 
I will go out and forget love and be as a bird in 

the sky." 
"I will go out in the wide lands alone in endless space 
Where the earth is ablaze with splendour and I Imeel 

in the sun's embrace; 
I will go out in the wide lands alone in endless 

space." 

Exquisitely simple, as if a rose were 
bowed by a spray of rain, is her brief 
lyric. Pan— brief but perfect: 

"Out of my tears 

Comes forth my song. 
Pan is blowing 

Sweet and long. 



[10] 



"Out of my pain — , 
The lyric-start; 

(Fruitful is 
A broken heart!)" 



Again we feel the touch of the true 
magic in Voices: Villa Pliniana: 

"Voices are crying in the street 

And rainbow-sandalled day is passing by. 

"The clamor sinks into my heart, 

And I fall thinking of another hour 

When thunder voices thro' the drooping trees 

Filled the pale violet afternoon 

In Italy. 

"We were together, you and I, 
Beneath the fragrant trellised shade, 
Watching the slow rain silvering the sky, 
Your face was like a delicate white rose 
Drooping against my cheek." 

Here is a picture that pleases; but still 
more delightful is that delicate cadence, 
that dying fall, in those silvery words — 
"the pale violet afternoon in Italy/' 

Here finally, is one of her somber 
notes sounding out of an hour when she 
is thinking of the last tavern toward 
which we are all journeying: 

"Yea, I shall be at rest who had to bear 
Beauty too keen and pain that had no end . . . 
Earth will have taken me again to friend." 

Blanche Shoemaker Wagstaff has 
made a serious study of the great art of 
poetry. She is a growing woman, a 
greatening poet. It is pleasant to speed 
her on her way up the rose-hung slopes 
of Helicon. 

Edwin Markham. 



Staten Island, N. Y., 
December, 1919. 

[11] 



QUIET WATERS 

/^UR lives float on quiet waters. 

^-^ Down softly flowing streams, 

Where silvery willows 

Shadow calm waves. 

Gentle bird-songs 

And murmuring freshets 

Leap from the woodland 

In snowy circlets. 

Green embowers us, 

And fragrant mosses. 

Spicy odors 

That drift in the languid 

Swaying breezes. . . . 

Our lives float on quiet waters. . . 

And my Love and I 

Wonder at twilight, 

When flaming banners 

Spread in the heavens, 

How long this Beauty — 

This stately silence . . . 

E'er once again we shall drift 

On the turbulent, open sea . . . 



[13] 



FRIEZE 

T17T0MEN waiting. . . . 
" I would like to make a bronze frieze of 
women waiting. . . . 
Beneath shady trees, in crowded cities, 
In quiet homes by lampHght 
At sickbeds, 
And in silent churches kneeling ... 

Women waiting. . . . 

Eternally waiting 

For the child in the womb. 

For the lover's footstep. 

For the husband at nightfall, 

For the son returned from battle. 

Women waiting — 
Patient, anxious, maternal — 
Oh, I would like to make a bronze frieze of 
this watchful motherhood! 



[14] 



VISITATION 

T have been silent 

■'- And my heart has been very lonely- 

But always Beauty came 

A golden well in the desert . . . 

I have been full of sorrow 
And heavy pain. 
But always Beauty came 
A voice in the darkness. 

I have trod the valleys 

Where there was only shadow. 

But always Beauty came 

A tip of flame over the mountain. 



[15] 



Y 



GARMENTS 

OUTH is slipping from me . . . 
Like a golden garment a girl slips softly 
from her cool body. 



Daily I see the changes . . . 
Changes like the sky when autumn comes 
and twilight quickens suddenly. 

There is silver in my hair . . . 
Hair that was tawny and shimmering like 
meadow grass stroked by sunlight. 

My laughter no longer has the same ring . . . 
The old, girlhood ring that rippled before 
Sorrow stooped to me. 

Nor is my body firm and supple . . . 
Supple as a lad's it used to be, and there was 
lustre in the flesh, and muscle. 

Youth is slipping from me . . . 
Like a golden garment a girl slips slowly 
from her cool body ... 



[16] 



COLUMNS 

T^HERE are sorrows 
"^ Greater than death . . . 
There is grief 
Deeper than the sting of parting. 

It is when Life 

Is cold 

Like a marbl(3 column by the sea, 

And Love 

Stands silent 

As a sepulchre. 



[17] 



"THIS ONE HOUR" 

T will forget Sorrow this one hour . . . 

■*■ And watch the moon rise in a silvery 

shower 
Over the mountains. I will fare 
Quietly forth on the tranquil evening air 
Fragrant with laurel-scent 
And pine. 

Knowing God meant 
That Beauty and Content 
Should this one hour be mine ! 



[18] 



AWE 

rpHE Beauty of life 
■"■ Awes me with its loveliness. . 
Silver-sandalled dawn, 
Rustling leaves in the wind, 
Meadows radiant with flowers. 
Terraced gardens and green boughs 
Mirrored in dark pools. 
Ivy on ruined towers. 
Mountains crowned by cloud. 
Moonlight on the sea 
And waterfalls at twilight . . . 

The beauty of life 

Awes me with its loveliness . . . 



[19] 



PROCESSION 

T^HE mystery which is sublime 
■*■ In every little seed that springs ! 
The incommensurate wonder, — 
The miracle of life issuing from the womb of 

the earth 
Resurgent, ever-renewing plenitude 
Of perennial Spring; of flowers, of fruit, of 

trees 
That rise from a little seed. 

Seeds, dry, colorless, shapeless, almost im- 
perceptible. 
Bearing within their infinitesimal hearts 
Resplendent decorations for the earth; 
Life miraculous, majestic, perpetual, 
Uprising from tiny seedlings, — 
Fragile little nuclei of Eternity . . . 

Life, (the God-breath over all) 

Marvellous handicraft of Invisible Forces, 

Mystery converging, illimitable, unvanquish- 
able . . . 

Even so from the fusion of lover's em- 
braces — 

From the flame of human passion 

Issues the endless procession 

Of generations ... 



[20] 



"BEAUTY LIKE DAWN SHED OVER ME' 

T^HE mountain crest against the sky. 
•*■ (0 transient little atom I . . .) 

The clouds majestic as they pass. 
(And I am but the swaying grass.) 

The wind in lofty music sings 

(And I am but of earthly things . . .) 

The giant trees aloft on high 

Seem mingling with the misty sky — 

The sun is like a golden frieze — 
Thank God for Beauty such as these, 

Beauty like dawn shed over me 
Symbol of my immortality . . . 



[21] 



CONTRASTS 



A CRIPPLE hobbling in the sunlight. 
•^^ (Blooming alleys of roses.) 



Two hooded nuns walking under an umbrella. 
(Bees sipping honey from the cups of 
flowers.) 

Children romping in a daisy field. 
(Long lines of black carriages following a 
hearse to a cemetery.) 

Lovers strolling hand in hand under the 
trees. 

(A victrola screeching from an open win- 
dow.) 

An old lady knitting on a veranda. 

(A woman in childbirth in the room above.) 

A beautiful girl riding in a crimson limou- 
sine. 

(A gaunt-faced doctor driving a wobbly 
runabout.) 

Flowered meadows spreading over the earth. 
(And darkness waiting to consume the sun- 
light.) 



[22] 



MUSIC 

ipRAGRANT green boughs 

""- Murmuring on the June air 

Under a rain-silvered sky. 

There is no music sweeter 

Than the rustle of trees in the wind . 

Like cadences of clear water rippling, 
The soft music of many leaves 
Is the melody of a thousand lyres . . . 
Rustle of boughs in the wind — 
There is no harmony sweeter to me 
Than fragrant green trees 
Murmuring on the June air. 



[23] 



TWILIGHT 

npHE sombre beauty of twilight 
-*■ Stirs me to strange musing . . . 
The cool air stabbing my cheek, 
And the west murky with clouds. 
Darting silvery birds scurry through the 

shadows 
Where proud red poppies flaunt in stately 

gardens. 
Glimmer of snowy marble and terraced 

niches, 
Pathways sumptuous with rhododendron. 
And white syringa, tremulous, swaying 
In the voluptuous wind . . . 
Iris, ghostly pale in the alleys, 
And peonies, arrogant, crimson, sparkling. 

The sombre beauty of twilight 

Stirs me to strange musing . . . 

The silence fills me with wonder. 

The shadows straying like lover's caresses. 

The wind stroking the flowers. 

And night creeping with winding fingers, 

Dewy and ebon, cinctured by stars . . . 

The sombre beauty of twilight 

Stirs me to strange musing . . . 

Love! Death! Truth! 

What are you ? 

This diaphanous mystery about me. 

Passional twilight, silence, green splendor — 

Is this not the breath Eternal, 

Is this not the Ultimate answer — 

Infinite Beauty 

Flooding my finite soul . . . 

[241 



CITY SKETCH 

TJURRYING masses of people, 

-■"-*• Eager, weary-eyed, self-conscious, 

Swarming the city streets, 

Tawdry, absurd in fluttering fabric. 

Girls, red-mouthed, angular, 

Mincing in high-heeled slippers. 

With hips uncorseted; 

Men, gray-faced, gaunt-limbed, hulking, 

Striding ungainly with hurried gait; 

Children, pallid, nervous. 

Swiftly passing on silent errands. 

Anxious faces, and passionate faces. 

Sinister faces, and lonely faces. 

Smiling faces, and sad, piteous faces 

Marked with the furrows of age. 

Monstrous hot-house of humanity! 
City, swarming with struggling people — 
Millions, — oppressed, tired, seeking. 
Toiling grimly for what invisible goal. 
What dream of hidden desire? 
Groping, yearning baffled multitudes 
Missing the magic touch of Beauty — 
Consummate Beauty aloof in the silence . 



[25] 



SLEEP 

CLEEP! 

^ Orchards of amethyst and perfumed 

boughs, 
Elysium of myrtle and jasmine, 
Willows that sing at the borders of shining 

lakes 
Alabaster with lilies. 
Skies of opal. 
And floating on the air 
Voices of many nightingales- 
Divine Sleep! 
Perfect beatitude. 
Ravishing philtre. 

What beautiful visions dwell in your midst. 
Friend! Lover! Comforter! 
You alone are faithful. 



[26] 



RAY 

T ET my life be a sparkling ray 

Of cool water, toward the sky . 
White, from a fountain's depths 
And pure . . . 

So that all who gaze upon it may say 
"Lo ! her life mounts heavenward 
Even as the wind." 
For there is no Beauty 
Like unto clear water 
Against the sky. . . . 



[27] 



MAY NIGHT 

lyrlGHT! cool, enveloping, delicious, 
^ ^ Perfumed, magical night of Spring — 
Fold your arms about my lover and me 
Till we hide in your sheltering darkness. 

Night, radiant with many stars, 

Sky, mother of pearl and azure. 

Let your silence descend on my lover and me 

That we may dwell in sylvan quiet. 

Night, fragrant with new grass and lilac. 

Pool of endless shadows. 

Bathe with joy my lover and me 

Till we sink in the wreathed wavelets. 

Night, — cool, enveloping, delicious, 
O mother of Love, mistress of beauty. 
Give of your darkness, wherein we would 

perish 
Drunken with dreams, my lover and me. 



[28] 



D 



DUST AND SHADOW 

UST and shadow . . . 

Life and Love and Laughter 
And pale Death . . . 



Dust that is golden . . . 
Life and love like gleaming sunlight 
And laughter rippling, rippling. 

Shadow that is diaphanous, 
Silver-woven, dancing shadow. 

And Death that hovers always, waiting. 



[29] 



w 



QUERY 

HEN I see a cripple hobbling by me in 
the sunlight 
I wonder whyi God 
Gave the gift of Life, 
And Beauty, 

When its companions are 
Sorrow 
And deformity. 



[30] 



CAPTIVE 

r AM a captive . . . 

-*■ Not a moment am I free of domination. 

Each morn I awaken the thought of my ser- 
vitude terrifies me. 

Each evening the sun fades I am over- 
whelmed by my martyrdom. 

Each hour I sleep I am pursued by the image 
of my tyranny. 

Each bird song evokes a realization of my 
enslavement. 

Each bud that withers on the bough, 

Each leaf that flutters in the wind, 

Each ray of dawn upon the sea 

Reveals to me my imprisonment . . . 

I am terrified by the shadow of my Guardian. 

He stands hidden in every pathway 

His lips sucking at my throat 

The dark Master who never forsakes me^ — 

The Grave . . . 



[31] 



AGE 

A LONE in the pale glow of the coals, 
-^^ The fire is dead. 
Rain weeps at the window 
And the ghosts of my vanished youth 
Dance in the shadows . . . 



Murmur of the sea on the distant shore. 
The night is black. 

All the beautiful moments of my life — 
What meaning have they now? 

Love that was mine, 

Roses once blooming. 

White hands I caressed. 

Fair breasts of women. 

Dreams and hopes that I cherished, 

Joys that I clasped — 

What meaning have they now? 

Alone in the pale glow of the coals. 

Alone in the immensity of age. 

Alone in the vast solitude of Thought. 

Nought but the presence of God envelops me 

Tenderly like the caress of a beloved. 

We are alone, we two, God and I . . . 



[32] 



MONA LISA 

■pEAUTIFUL Girl, 

■■-^ With large mild eyes 

Full of wonder and dream. 

Were you not made to be loved 

In some dim woodland 

Where there are no stars? 

Your glance is like twilight 

When the west is stained with silver . . . 

Dream-haunted, magical Girl! 

When you look at me 

I see the gray dusk 

Of Italian evenings, 

For your face has all the beautiful sorrow 

Of da Vinci's Mona Lisa . . . 



[33] 



I HAVE KNOWN ALL 

T HAVE known all. • . . 

■*■ Passion, pain, great shame and sorrow. 

And joy to the uttermost. 

Yet I am not appeased ! 

For I would know it all over again. 

Fuller, keener, intenser than before — 

The pain, the shame and the great sorrow, 

Until there would be 

No more knowino: . . . 



[34] 



FAREWELL TO THE MOUNTAINS 

T SHALL miss you, Friends, 

•■- Vast peace of the towering green, 

Silent hosts of my dream. 

For your great woodlands 

Have shared the secrets of my heart. 

I shall miss you. Friends, 
For you have been faithful unto me 
And through the long violet hours 
We have kept vigil together. 

I shall miss you, Friends — 

No comrades will I have on the windy shore 

Where the sea-mists fly. 

And I shall pass lonely 

Forever mourning your silent Beauty . • . 



[35] 



FUTURE 

Tj^UTURE, nebulous, unseen, alluring, 

-'- What tumultous joy, 

What unknown tears, 

What gifts have you in store for me . . . 

Future, shadowy, stupendous, impenetrable, 
What tenderness have you to bestow upon 

me, 
What passionate pain. 
What Beauty will you awaken upon my way? 

Future, sovereign, omniscient — 
Will you render me peace? 
Or grant me sufficient years 
To re-live all the beautiful moments of my 
Youth. 



[36] 



"'>-> 



HOPE 

TJOPE, an iris-flower 
-*■■'■ Risen in the dawn . . 
Wistful and fair 
As a girFs face, 
Shimmering alabaster 
Amidst the green. 
Inviolate and calm, 
She sheds upon the world 
A fairy radiance. 



[37] 



FEAR 

Tj^EAR — a hooded gnome — 
-*■ Dark-browed and sinister 
Stalks in the background of life, 
Clutching at the throat of lovers. 
Clouding the sunlight, 
Shadowing the stars. 
Mystical, demonic, 
Slaying with poisoned breath 
Man's dearest dreams . . . 



[38] 



OCTOBER 

■pAIN . . . 

^^ The soft voice of the rain 
Sings of autumn and falling leaves 
And the immortal beauty of death. 

The sea is gray mist. 

The sky is pale. 

Withered boughs crackle in the wind 

And birds fly in silence. 

Rain ... 

But my heart re-enters its secret life, 

Throwing wide again 

The shining portals of Memory. 



1391 



IMPRESSION 

T IKE spears of flame 

■*^ The poppies flare 

Their scarlet heads to the sky, 

Boldly, radiantly glowing, 

Silken petals blowing in the wind 

Splashes of bright blood 

Against the yellow-green of the May 

meadows. 
The clustered hedge 
A leafy wall encircling. 
Spotted with snow-white blossoms 
That crawl through green niches. 

In a marble urn 

Of amber water 

A bird, with ruby bosom 

Flutters and bathes, 

Defiantly chirping. 

A cool wind from the sea 

Ripples softly the stately iris. 

Quince buds and scarlet poppies. 

Red, red, red. 
Like blood is my garden, 
Geranium, peony, poppy 
Sweet William, salvia, gladiola. 
Rose and hawthorn 
Girdled with white iris. 
Alabaster in the sunlight. 



[40] 



COMEDY 

pONTRASTS of life— 

^^ I, sitting here on a bench under a green 

tree 
Writing verses in praise of Beauty — 
And beside me 

Two ragged men chewing tobacco 
And plotting to overthrow 
The Government. 



[41] 



TIME 

nniME, fugitive, cruel — 
-■■ Stay your flight in this impalpable in- 
stant ! 
Stay that I may drink deeply into my soul 
The beauty of this hour ! 

The flash of a golden butterfly — 
Falling water piercing shadow — 
Sudden storm bursting white cloud — 
Such is this moment. 

Stay ! Stay ! O, Time in your flight. 
Extinguish not the rapture 
Of this sublime hour . . . 



[421 



WINTER EVENING 

■p^ARKNESS. 

•*^ Silence that weeps in my heart. 

Ashes in the grate and the cry of a lonely 

bird at the window. 
Trees that shiver in the wind. 

Darkness ... 

And Youth passing, passing — 

To listen and hear no footstep. . . . 



[431 



a 



I WILL TAKE THE LONE PATH'' 

T WILL take the lone path 
■■■ That leads from the sea. . . . 
The dark path on the hill 
That winds eternally. 

I will take the still way, 
The quiet way and long, 

Where there is neither laughter 
Love or song. . . . 

And though I take the dark lane 
Within the cypress-gloom, 

I know there waits me somewhere 
April's scented bloom! 



[44] 



CITIES 

liyrY heart dreams of cities — 
■'■■'" Cities by the sea . . . 
Athens with its cypress shade, 
Spires in Italy. 

Ravenna, wooded, stately. 
Where the church-bells chime. 
Venice, blue, bewitching 
In the summertime. 

Corfu, fairy island. 
Orange-groves in flower. 
Cairo's sapphire minarets 
In the twilight hour. 

Tunis' golden streetways — 
Mosques against the skies. 
Where Sahara's desert 
Mirrors the moonrise. 

Algiers' terraced gardens 
Gleaming like the snow. 
The Atlas mountains purple 
In the sunset glow. 

Gibraltar, gray and rockbound, 
Where the gulls soar free. 
Naples with its fiery crown, 
Taormina's templed lea. 



[45] 



My heart dreams of cities — 
Cities by the sea. . . . 
In Tuscany and Provence, 
In fabled Thessaly. 

Cities, you have been my f riends- 
You call across the blue. 
Can I hear your voices, 
And not go to you ? . . . 



[46] 



BLUE NIGHT 

XILUE night falls 

^^ About me in a mute caress 

Of loveliness. 

And the wind calls 

In sudden minstrelsy 

From every tree. 

I want no more than this — 

The wind's kiss 

And the nightfall over me. 

When silence sends 

Its gentle lore, 

And youth is o'er, 

I want no more 

Than when life ends, 

The stars should vigil keep 

On my eternal sleep, 

And there should be 

The wind's kiss and the nightfall over me. 



[47] 



VOICES: VILLA PLINIANA 

'XT'OICES are crying in the street 
ra 
by. 



V 

^ And rainbow-sandalled day is passing 



The clamor sinks into my heart, 

And I fall thinking of another hour 

When thunder-voices through the drooping 

trees 
Filled the pale violet afternoon 
In Italy. . . . 

Cypress-shadows trembled on the lake, 
Green mountains arched into the sky, 
And nightingales 
Swept through the languid air. 
And twilight tipped the butterflies with 
flame. 

And singing, singing through, the palace 

walls 
A waterfall, like the great voice of God. . . . 

We were together, you and I, 
Beneath the fragrant trellised shade. 
Watching the slow rain silvering the sky. 
Your face was like a delicate white rose 
Drooping against my cheek. 



[48] 



*Tor Life, for Death," you said. 
And sweet the echo of your words 
Was borne upon the wind 
In Italy. ... 

Today I sit and think of you 
Hearing again the waterfall 
Singing, singing like the great voice of 
God. . . . 



[49] 



"JOY HAS COME UNTO MY DOOR" 

JOY has come unto my door 
Tremulous and fair 
With shining hair — 
The old, old Joy is here once more, 
Laughing and flame-arrayed — 
And I am half afraid. 

Joy has come unto my door 

Again 

After long pain, 

The old, old Joy is here once more. 

Whom I had mourned as dead. 

And now she comes with sweet arms 
spread. 

Joy has come unto my door. ... 
I heard her call — 
Her soft footfall 
Is here once more — 
And oh, her wondrous beauty made 
My heart afraid. ... 



[50] 



KINSHIP 

T YING face downward in the sweet-scented 
^-^ grass, 

My eyes deep buried in the soothing ground, 
My senses keen to every little sound. 
Hearing the stately darkness rise and pass — 

Light is obscured in the delicious dark, 
My heartbeats stilled in silent reverence 
And ecstasy is mine — ^the vivid sense 
Of life, as in the song of some late lark, — 

A kinship with the force of earth . . . the 
thrill 

That comes with Nature's sweetest inti- 
macy — 

Some premonition of Eternity — 

Lying within the grasses lone and still. . . . 



[51] 



FROM THE WEEHAWKEN FERRY 

/~\ NIGHT, so still and calm and blue, 
^-^ Why am I not a part of you ? 

Dark, so deep and mild and fair 
Enfold me in your ebon hair. 

Night, serene and still and blue 
Your peace alone is pure and true, 

Man is but frail, his joy unsure. 
While your great beauty is secure. 

Rest upon earth I cannot find 
Tossed ever by the inconstant wind, 

Nor is there shelter for my soul 
That walks from misty shoal to shoal. 

Night, so still and calm and blue 

1 would I were a part of you ! 



[52] 



SONG OF FREEDOM 

T WILL go out and forget Love and be as a 

■*■ bird in the sky, 

Free with the soaring breezes and the clouds 

that wander by; 
I will go out and forget Love and be as a bird 

in the sky ! 

I will go out in the wide lands alone in end- 
less space 

Where the earth is ablaze with splendour, 
and I kneel in the sun's embrace. 

I will go out in the wide lands alone in endless 
space ! 

I will go out and forget Love as the wild wind 

in the sky, 
And be as a bird without bourne or kin or 

aught to hold me by — 
I will go out and forget Love as the wild wind 
in the sky ! 



[53] 



PAN 

/^UT of my tears 
^^ Comes forth my song. 
(Pan is blowing 
Sweet and long.) 

Out of my pain — 

The lyric-start; 
(Fruitful is 

A broken heart!) 



[54] 



^1 SHALL GROW OLD'' 

T SHALL grow old and all this summer 
-'■ bloom 

Will wither from me as an elm in Fall 
That pales beneath inevitable doom — 

The sorry end eventual. 
And all life's singing flame will dwindle 
cold — 

I shall grow old! 

I shall grow old ; and all my heart's glad fire 
Will ebb away as sun-tipped waves at sea. 

O there will be an end of all desire 
Of song and ecstasy — 

My beauty but a bell no longer tolled, 
I shall grow old. 

must it be — this sad embittering end, 
This dimming of life's shining wonder- 
light? 

Or will Age come to me as gentle friend 
To fold me in the night . . . 

1 wonder will the hours fall still and cold 
When I am old . . . 



[55] 



SPRING FLOWERS 

pOPPY, mignonette and pea 
■*- You are beautiful to see. 

Crimson, pink, and burnished hue 
O but I am glad of you ! 

Yet my heart goes wondering 
At the sadness of the Spring . . . 

At the magic golden door 
Which is closed forevermore. 

For there is a step I wait 

Which will come not, early, late — 

And there is a voice once dear 
Which I nevermore will hear. 

And my heart goes wondering 
At the sadness of the Spring . . . 



[56] 



MY GARDEN 

"jlyTY garden is a fairy place 

-LT A Waiting for his perfect face. 

Every little nodding flower 

Is expectant of the hour 

When his feet shall pass this way 

In the twilight of the day. 

Every bud that softly sways 
Gently to its neighbor says : 
"He is coming very soon 
With the golden crescent moon 
We shall see his shadow falF' — 
Beauty hovering over all ! 

Not a moment but the bliss 

Of his coming quickened is ; 

Such a premonition of 

Joy that seems shed from above, — 

Melody that soon will sing, 

Which my lover's voice will bring ! 

Eager for the happy hour 
Is each sunny tinted flower, 
For the birds, and buds that grow 
And the fragrant winds that blow 
Wait but for his perfect face 
In this fairy resting-place! 



[57] 



so QUIETLY LOVE CAME 

CO quietly love came 

^ I did not hear his name 

Thro' the night. 

Only silence fell 

Like a starry spell 

Of light. 

There was no caroling 
Of bird or trumpet-flare. 
Only on the air 
The sudden burst of Spring, 
And in my heart a flame, — 
(So quietly love came! . . .) 



158] 



HANDS THAT I LOVED . . . 

TTANDS that I loved long years ago — 
-■■-■■ Dear hands . . . 
Tender as winds that blow — 
They call to me across the sands 
Across the pale wild prairie lands, 
For once they were my own 
To clasp and fondle and entwine 
With mine . . . 

Pink-petalled finger tips! 

Flowers to my lips — 

Sweet violet veins that trace 

And keep the pressure of a lost embrace. 

They were such white hands 

Pale as the new-fallen snow on winter lands — 

Dear hands of my delight, 

They summon me throughout the moonless 

night — 
Across the desolate prairie lands — 
Dear hands ... 



[59] 



"I SHALL NOT COUNT MY HOURS'' 

T SHALL not count my hours ill spent 
"*■ If I but knew the years 
Had brought me wonder in my heart 
My toll of joy or tears. 

If in some twilit hour the touch 

Of Beauty had been mine, 
As when a first star in the west 

Begins to shine. 

If in some moment memorable 

Of song, or ecstasy, 
I knew for once that Loveliness 

Had dwelt with me ! 



[60] 



JAPANESE GIRL 

TTER eyes a cool 
■■■■*■ Mountain pool 
Shaded by ivied walls 
When twilight falls . . . 

Her gaze — 

Wistful as Autumn days 
When leaves fly 
Golden into the sky. 

Her words — 
Soft-toned as the birds 
Nesting there 
In the evening air. 

Her heart that glows 
Like the petals of a rose 
Pierced by a butterfly wing 
In Spring. 



[61] 



THE DAYS GONE BY 
(RONDEAU) 

npHE days gone by . . . they were so very 
-*• sweet 

I wonder if my spirit-self will meet 
Them resurrected in the world to be, 
That vast, beneficient Eternity 
Where all things lovely pass to when they 
die — 
Dear days gone by . . . 

Tears never touched their loveliness, — they 

were 
Like fragrant flowers the cruel winds could 

not stir 
Nor can time dim their fairness for they 

seem 
Still golden to me in my memory-dream. 

petalled hours your beauty cannot die — 
Dear days gone by . . . 

They were so perfect that God deemed it wise 
To take them from me. But their ghosts 

arise 
And moan like plaintive children for caress. 
So lulled into a phantom happiness 

1 fold them to me when I hear their cry — 

Dear days gone by . . . 



[62] 



A DAUGHTER TO HER MOTHER 

TI/fANY have loved me, but none, dear, as 
'^ you. 

Youth brought me beauty and happiness, too» 
Moments of splendour and skies that were 

blue. 
But never a love half so tender and true — 
Many have loved me but none, dear, as you ! 

Many I loved with the years. Mother Mine, 

I have tasted of earth's richest wine, 

1 have plucked pleasure like fruit from the 

vine 
But only the joy that you brought was 
divine — 
Many I loved with the years, Mother Mine ! 

Many have loved me but none have as you. 
None who could comfort and cheer me anew. 
None who forgave me and wept for me too, 
None who my heart's secret sufferings 

knew — 
Many have loved me, but none have as 

you . . . 

O Mother my Mother, when you are no more 
To whom shall I go with my tears running 

o'er. 
Whose voice will give courage, whose aid I 

implore, 
Whose breast will have shelter, whose love 
will restore — 
O Mother my Mother, when you are no 
more . . . 

[63] 



TEMPO . . . 

TFTHEN Love first came 

" She was tenderness and light. 
But now she is a cruel flame 
That burns in the night . . . 

When Love first came 

She was glad April air 
But now she is a cruel flame 

That follows everywhere. 



[64] 



REFUGE 

T CAME from the City 
-*- My heart was filled with pain. 
I walked in the meadow 
And heard the wind again. 

I saw the moon rise 

Golden, through the trees, 
And I said, "Thank God 

For all of these.'' 

I watched the stars shine 

And night tremulous start. 
Then a great peace came 

And I knew that Grief had left my heart. 



[65] 



SONG OF THE WEARY TRAVELER 

T AM weary. I would rest 
■*" On the wide earth's loving breast 
Nurtured by the gentle sun 
Where the little streamlets run, 
Soothed by all the winds that pass, 
Hearing voices in the grass 
Of the little insect things 
Happier than the mightiest kings. 

I am weary. I would sleep 
In some quiet perfumed deep, 
Where no human touch could bring 
Tears to me or anything. 
There I would forget to weep 
And my silent cloister keep; 
There I would the earth embrace 
Meeting Beauty face to face . . . 

I am weary. I would go 
Where the fields are all aglow. 
Where the violets scent the air, 
Far from man and his despair, 
Far from longing and delight 
Through the endless starry night; 
There I would forget to weep 
And my silent cloister keep . . . 



[66] 



STORM 

/^OOL and fresh the rain falls 
^ On the parched air; 

Far in the west 
The sky breaks fair. 

Like a giant gun's roar 
Is the thunder's boom; 

Lightning traces jagged ghosts 
Through the gloom. 

Frightened, all the flowers 
Hide their heads away. 

And I think of one who died 
A year ago today. . . . 



[67] 



JOYCE KILMER 
FALLEN IN ACTION, AUG. 2, 1919 

TTE walked in beauty through the crowded 
■*--■■ throng, 

A minstrel, singing in his youthful hours. 
His vision full of sunshine and of flowers. 
His melody that filled the earth with song. 

Beloved of all mankind, father and friend 
He went the way of those amongst the brave 
Fearless, undaunted to the last . . . his 

grave 
Pure spirit proud to meet its honored end ! 

Extol his valour, Earth! Let all revere 
The memory of his song and lofty ways; 
So men may grow in wisdom through his 

praise 
And life be sweeter since we knew him here. 

He walked in beauty through the passing 

years. 
And now is fallen where the mighty lie. 
We will not weep for him, for those who die 
In battle are too noble for our tears ! 



[68] 



FLOWER SHOW 

A N arc of flowers limned against the 
^ sky . . . 

Lavender, pink and blue, 
Crimson, amber hue. 
As some bright rainbow shimmering on 
high 



• • • 



The perfume of a thousand blossoms rare, 

Heliotrope and rose. 

Mignonette, golden-glows, 
Drenching with beauty all the summer air! 

Children's faces smiling with delight . . . 

And colored ribbons fluttering. 

Asters and hollyhocks that bring 
Vistas of moonlit gardens in the night. . . . 

Color and perfume — glint of swaying 
flower . . . 

On marble pillars twined 

Alyssium, crimson vined 
Rapture of roses, — this is Beauty's hour! 



[69] 



LET SPRING RECALL 

TT seems that he must come to me again 
■*■ When tulips raise their heads and when 

the rain 
Is sweet with Hlac-scent. How could I bear 
To seek and find his face not anywhere 
Amid the fragrance of the April air? 

It seems that I must find him in the green. 
Hid in some sparkling spot, waiting unseen. 
His dear eyes smiling, — startled with de- 
light. 
His beauty like a moon-star in the night. 

It seems that he must once again return . . . 
Just once since all the flowering meadows 

burn 
With sudden sun, — now when the linnets 

sing 
Their fairy love-notes, harbinger of Spring, 
And when God's touch illumines everything! 

It seems that he must come . • . or he must 

hear 
In Flanders' fields, the voice of Spring draw 

near. . . . 



[70] 



THE TRANSPORT SAILS 

TJOW quiet is the house 
^^ Since he is gone . . . 
How still the twilight falls, 
How pale the dawn. 

Each leaf that stirs 
At my window-pane 

I start up and say : 
"He is come again!" 

But the silent hours 

One by one pass by ; 
And he does not hear 

My lonely cry . . . 

Through the long nights 
I watch and pray . . . 

God, will you bring him back 
To me some day? 



[71] 



I DID NOT WEEP 

"TAEAR, when you died, 

-■-^ And like one in a dream 

I stood beside 

The quiet wonder of your tomb, 

And saw your eyes 

Closed like young violets in sleep — 

I did not weep ... 

But said : "How sweet she lies. 

Her body beautiful with bloom, 

Her lips still keep 

The kisses that I gave her Vhen she died." 



1 72 



"ONLY IN THE SONGS I SING" 

i^NLY in the songs I sing 
^^ Beauty captive is. 
My heart's a bird on broken wing 
Barren but of this: 

Song — the breathless ecstasy, 

Song, the perfect lyre. 
Song, which has revealed to me 

Beauty's singing fire . . . 

Life is sun and shadow, 

Joy an endless quest. 
Only in the songs I sing 

Is my heart at rest! 



[73] 



^'EARTH TREMBLES WAITING 

T WAIT for his footfall, 
■*- Eager, afraid. 
Each evening hour 

When the lights fade. . . . 

I wait for his voice 

To speak low to me — 
As a mariner lost 

Dreams of harbor, at sea. . 

I wait for his lips 

When the dusk falls. 
Life holds my longing 

Behind dark walls. 

I wait for his face — 

As after rain 
Earth trembles waiting 

For the sun again. . . . 



99 



[74] 



"MY LOVE IS COMING BACK TODAY' 

1%/I"Y Love is coming back today 
To light my heart anew, 
And laurel on the mountain blooms 
And oh, the sky is blue, — 

The hills are garlanded in green 
The larks are singing clear 

Such rapture that I know, I know 
My Love is drawing near! 

The birch trees bend in homage, 
The iris' breathless glows, 

O tremulous the moments 
My heart rejoicing, knows. 

My Love is coming back today 
And oh, the earth is fair — 

New Beauty is on field and hill 
New wonder on the air! 



[75] 



a 



ALL PATHS LEAD TO YOU" 

A LL paths lead to you 
■^^ Where e'er I stray, 
You are the evening star 
At the end of day. 

All paths lead to you 

Hill-top or low, 
You are the white birch 

In the sun's glow. 

All paths lead to you 
Where e'er I roam. 

You are the lark-song 
Calling me home ! 



[76] 



MARRIAGE 

"VTOUR heart and my heart, ever one, as 
•*■ trees 

Intertwined in April in the scented breeze, 
Root and bough united in a sacred pact, 
what joy and wonder in this golden fact! 

Your life and my life . . . flowing as a 

stream 
Storm cannot turn it, in its gliding dream, 
Shoals cannot daunt it or darkness apall 
Deep is the tidal flood sweeping over all ! 

Your love and my love . . . like a meteor's 

fligh1>- 
Wonderful the glory through the summer 

night, 
Peace in the splendour, beauty in the flower 
Body and spirit — one this hour . . » 



July 30, 1921, 



[77] 



BUTTERFLIES 

npHE calm sorrow of your face 
-*• Summons me, 
And my heart waits tremulous 
As the wings 
Of a swallow ... 

Diaphanous, roseate. 
Floating before us 
Butterflies . . . butterflies — 
Vibrations of the great Unknown. 



[78] 



ARES LUDOVISI 

TN a field of summer wheat, 

"'■ Golden as the sheaves — 

I saw him standing under the sky . , 

The birds ceased singing, 
And the wind paused 
Breathless with beauty. 

The sun paled in the heavens, 
And day trembled 
At so much loveliness. 

Like a Delphic marble 

He stood, spirit of immortal beauty. 

Naked amid the wheat sheaves . . . 



[79] 



MAGICO . . . 

"^5 unto the how the cord is^ 

So unto the man is woman. 

Tho^ still she bend him, she obeys him. 

Tho^ still she draws him, still she follows — 

Useless each without the other. ^^ 

— Longfellow. 

^^ Whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou 
lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my 
people, and thy God my God: where thou diest, 
will I die . . . '' 

— Book of Ruth. 



[80] 



MAGICO . . . 

What is this strangeness within me . . . 
This miracle which has befallen me, 
This divine urge of my being toward you, 
This succulent sweet painful brooding some- 
thing 
Which draws me ever unto you? 
Like the tide of a powerful current 
It holds, compels, hastens me to you 
No matter where I am nor what I am doing. 
No matter where you are nor what space is 

between us 
Always I must follow you, follow you, follow 

you 
Like a hound on a leash, driven, hunted and 

smarting 
Into your presence . . . 

There is no other way . . . 

I have tried everything, — 

And it has availed me naught. 

For I must follow you wherever you are, 

Though you are not stronger, nor wiser than 

other men. 
It is like pursuing myself when I go after 

you, 
For when I am away from you — 
It is as if I had been severed from part of 

myself ! 



[81] 



Is it true then, perhaps you are myself, 
My only real self I reclaim when loving you. 
When you soothe this ache of your absence 
By your mouth on my mouth and your breast 
on my breast. 

It is more than love, this strangeness I feel 
for you. 

And it will die only when I die, — ^not before ; 

For it is not of the body nor only of the 
brain, but both intermixed and en- 
mingled — 

A cloud of flame that envelops me 

When I am apart from you, and cannot touch 
you! 

So always I must follow you. . . . 

Spirit ! Flesh ! Child ! Sister ! Lover, whatever 

you are to me. 
All things in one, yet Master and Comforter, 
Beautiful body I love — 
Divine maybe you are, or only the image of 

my own soul. 
Blown to me out of the dust of Eternity . . . 



[82] 



CHOICE 



i^LAD gifts life brought me — 



Bright things and fair, 
Yet not for these 

Did my heart care . . . 

But for you, my beloved, 
(0 heart's rich gain!) 

Sweet were the tears I shed 
Dear was the pain ! 



[83] 



PYRE 

T BRING you the burden of my longing. 
■*■ I am a wanderer without drink 
And you are the pool of water 
In the desert of my desire. 

I bring you the burden of my love . . . 

It has waited long — 

(And there is no crucifixion like waiting) 

It shall cover you — 

It shall be the girdle of flame about you. 

It shall be the pyre 

Whereon we shall perish ! 



[84] 



FIRELIGHT 

TN the firelight 

-■■ Your face was as beautiful 

As a Greek cameo 

Carved chrysophrase and annfber, 

Jade and amethyst 

Like the colors of a bird's wing 

In flight . . . 

In the firelight 
You were as beautiful 
As a Tanagra figure 
In the fields of Hellas — 
Ruddy golden-brown 
And shaded vermilion 
Melting into rose. 

In the firelight 

With the elm boughs glistening 

At the window, 

And the thrushes 

Whistling in the branches — 

You were beautiful 

As some fabled god of Attica, 

Poised for conquest 

On a shimmering isle 

Where the waves of Salamis 

Sing in splendour . . . 



[85] 



DORIC 

T GAZE upon you 

■*■ White as a pillar of ivory, 

Your limbs supple and firm 

Your arms rounded and soft, 

Your feet fragrant and cool 

Like curved shells. 

Your lips like ripe fruit. 

Your laughter like the warbling of birds, 

Your hair like tawny meadow grass. 

Your youth glorious and golden 

As a Doric column by the sea . . . 



[86] 



I 



GOBLET 

T is night and I am alone . . . 
The wind moans in the lattice. 



When will be poured for me 

The living goblet of your mouth 

Sweeter to me 

Than the waters of a mountain pool ? 



187] 



BIRDS 



Y'OU are 

-*■ As a million birds 
That sing unto my heart, Beloved. 

I am enveloped in harmony celestial 

No sea-melody 

Has the music of my being. 



You are 

As a million birds 

That sing unto my heart, Beloved . 



[88] 



TEMPEST 

T SHALL be the midnight storm 
■*• Sweeping like tempest . . . 
Your mouth 
A scarlet poppy- 
Sucked in the wind ... 



[89] 



FRAGRANCE 

TVTHEN the young moon hangs Hke a golden 

" feather in the sky 

The night is ours. 
We shall go to the forest 
And wander in the shadow of the pines. 
I shall cover you with leaves 
And the fragrance of you 
Will be sweeter to me 
Than the perfume of a thousand roses . . . 



[90] 



WHITE BIRCH 

/^OME with me. Beloved. 

^ We shall go to the meadows 

And lie beneath the willow trees 

And I will make for you a crown of daisies 

Strewing at your feet asphodel and roses. 

Come with me, Beloved. 

We will walk beside amber streams 

And I will take you deep in the eddies of a 

pool 
And your thighs 
Will be a white birch 
Rising out of the water . . . 



[91] 



BECAUSE OF YOU 

"DECAUSE of you I am glad of the day 
^-^ Like a bird on lifted wing ; 
Because of you my heart holds May 
And the hue of a new-born spring . 

Because of you the sky takes light, 
And earth has the face of a flower; 

Because of you the ebon night 
Is starred with rainbow-shower. 

Because of you the fragrant sod 

Glows with a beauty divine, 
Because of you I have looked on God, — 

He spoke since you were mine. . . . 



[92] 



MOONSTONE 

T HOLD your face between my hands 
■'' Shimmering like a moonstone. 
Through my fingers 
Filters the pure gold of your hair. 
Your eyes are languid 
Like a bird's after long flight, 
And your throat is as fragrant as a white 
rose. 



[93] 



LILIES 

AT'OUR arms are white lilies 
-■- Encircling me. 
There is the sound 
Of singing waters 
And the flash 
Of dazzling lightning. 

miracle of Love — 

My divinity and my crucifixion. 



[94] 



NENUPHAR 

^vrOU are a white nenuphar 
-*- Lifting its snowy bosom amid stream. 
In you are the treasures of Elysium 
The scent of your skin is like jasmine and 
honeysuckle. 

Why is such loveliness not mine, Beloved? 
When may I look upon you and say : 
"Behold! all this beauty is mine forever!" 



[95] 



I 



RAIN 

T rains. 
The dripping of the rain is like the cool 
kisses of your mouth. 



Cover me with kisses 

Even as I would be immersed 

In the coursing torrents 

Of the rain ... 



[96] 



SKEIN 

T ET me enfold you in my hair. 

■*-^ Let me wind you in a golden skein 

Shimmering . . . 

Give me your curved throat, 

(White like the calyx of a moon-flower) 

That I may twine about you 

The glossy fillets of my hair. 

Let it shower about you, 

Rippling over you 

Like teasing wind . . . 

Then give me your lips — 
That we may stand united 
As two trees with but one single root . 



[97] 



MIRROR 

TT/'E were walking by a swift river. 
" The boughs of the willows were golden 
above us, 
And the new green of the meadows, 
Was not greener than your strange eyes 
Full of flight 
As a bird's spread wings over sunny pastures. 

''Beloved," you said. 

As we watched the sunset lights on the river, 

"We are like two beings 

Born of one womb.'' 

(In your eyes I saw my image 
Mirrored like sudden fire . . .) 



[98] 



AMOR SILENTIUM 



T OVE me, Beloved, not with laughter, 

^ song or flowers 

But with your silence and your tears. . . . 



Lie in my arms as a child in the arms of a 

mother 
So my tenderness shall penetrate you . . . 

Love me, Beloved, not with laughter, song 

of flowers 
But with your silence and your tears. 



[99] 



EXALTATION 

"L'amour est Telan vers Tinconnue etendue a 
la folie." — Pascal., 

T SING with the wind, 
-■■ I laugh with the sun, 
I am the first star 
When day is done. 

I soar with the bird, 
I pulse with the tree. 

My soul is the cloud — 
I love ... I am free! 



[100] 



ENIGMA 

T LIE in your arms . . . 

-■■ The night is cool, 

And under the stars 

Your face is calm 

Yet why do you seem 

Stranger to me than any stranger . . . 

Is it to you that I have given 

Myself utterly . . . 

Is it upon this white breast 

That I have lain moaning with love 

Through the long numberless nights 

Of my youth . . • 

I lie in your arms . . . 
And under the stars 
Your face is calm. 
Even so 

Shall it always be — 

For we shall always be strangers to each 
other. 



[101] 



YOU WHOM I LOVE TODAY . . . 

T KNOW that you whom I love today 

■■■ Will sometime pass out of my life, 

And all this joy and laughter — 

This love that lights my heart 

Will be no more. 

And I shall be left lonely 

As all women ... 

I know that the glory of this dream 
Which came like the breath of dawn — 
All this bloomj and beauty 
As of a thousand springs, 
This gladness of meeting lips 
And this great calm of the spirit 
Cannot last forever ... 

I know that some day I shall walk alone 
Looking with eyes that cannot weep 
Upon the future desolate . . . 



[102] 



HERMES 

WHEN I left you— 
^ And April sprang in the meadows 
Misty and golden, 
Your face that leaned to mine 
Awaiting my kisses 
With anguish piteous, pallid, 
Looked like the white browed Hermes 
Compassionate, wondering, tearless . . 



{ 



[103] 



SURFEIT 

T AM weary of your love 

■'■ As one wearies of too bright sunlight. 

And I dream of quiet spaces 

Where only shadows are. 

I am weary of your love 

As one wearies of summer gardens 

Burning in splendour 

By the sea . . . 

I am weary of your love 
As one wearies of cloying sweets 
In honeytime. 

(And I dream of some cold desert of the 
moon.) 



[104] 



RENOUNCEMENT 

T MUST not think on you. For you are gone 
■'■ Into the unfeatured past as any bird 
That southward soars when autumn frosts 
are stirred. 
But when the spent dark nestles in the dawn 
And I He sleepless with my curtains wide, 
Then comes your loveliness in phantom 

guise 
With hands outstretched and lonely seek- 
ing eyes 
Proffering the beauty that our lives 
denied ... 

Can I forget you in Eternity? 

For everywhere within this world of pain 

Does your sweet image come to me again 
Like a sudden moon upon a cloud-gray sea . . . 

And when I cry, "Go from me," your dear 
face 

Bends to me and you fold me in embrace. 



[105] 



REVELATION 

Y^OU opened wide the portals of my soul 

And Beauty entered like a stately 
guest 
Clad in ethereal splendour, with her breast 
Bathed in transcendent flame from some far 

goal. 
Before me vistas of fair climes unroll, 
Glory unknown and calm, inviolate. 
Pure winged joy, too sweet to contemplate, 
And loveliness breathed from an azure shoal. 

Freed of all mortal pain I pass alone 

Like some pale dawn-star in the embered 
west. 
By all the winds of heavenly harmony blown. 

For in that hour above all others blest 
You brought me, as the voice of God that 
nears, 
The commiserating ecstacy of tears . . . 



[106] 



SONNETS 



PEACE SPREAD YOUR WINGS 

"pEACE spread your wings about my rest- 

■■■ less heart 

And prove me you are not a misty sprite — 
A vision of loveliness that flies by night 

And dwells forever from my life apart ! 

Nay, take me — fold me in your soft embrace 
And calm me with your overflowing sweet 
So I may nevermore Vexation meet 

And sheltered lie beneath your holy face . . . 

I would be your nursling evermore, 
Hiding within your bosom of content 
Forever from the world in banishment. 

With Care and Sorrow but a sealed door, 
Descend Peace, envelope me in ease. 
As starlight rests on quiet summer seas . . . 



[109] 



THE MIRACLE 

T ET me be thankful for the flaming day 
^ The noon that burns to splendour 

when I hear 
The feet of Beauty passing on her way, 

The voice of Beauty as she trembles near — 
Sweet silvery wraith, my hope and my de- 
spair! 

Man's path is but a pilgrimage of need 
Seeking the ultimate star, the hidden lair ; 

And when he falters let him deeply heed — 
Let him remember Life, the miracle . . . 

The rose of evening faint against the sky, 
The slow moon's glory risen in the dell. 

First love, or children's laughter floating 
by. 
The sweep of sudden wind amongst the trees. 

Let me be thankful. Lord, for all of these ! 



[110] 



MY LITTLE SELF 

"l/TY little self that struggles through 
-^^^ earth's space 

Passing from light to dark, from mist to 
clear, 
Conscious of need, and yearning for God's 
grace, 
Possessed of titan hope and puny fear. 
So arrogant with pride, so weak in pain, 

A prey to sudden tears and strange delight 
Pursuing phantom loveliness in vain — 
What am I ? . . . Only a starf all thro' the 
night, 
The passage of a gleaming stellar flame 

That soars its little hour and then expires 

Drowned by eternal dark from which it 

came — 

Sunk in a sea of its own frail desires. 

Knowing not why it came nor whither gone — 

A shuddering ray against the pallid dawn. 



[Ill] 



MOURN NOT FOR ME 
"Mors janua vitae." — Horace 

ll/rOURN not for me when I am gone away, 
-^^-^ Nor shed sad tears that I should be 
alone 
Beneath the meadows where the flowers 
are grown. 
Where all is silence and there is no day. 
Do not lament me, nor with sorrow say : 
"Now she is gone, oh, greatly must we 

weep." 
For wrapped in my interminable sleep 
There will be no sharp, quivering breeze of 

May 
Nor blossom-stir, nor sight of things too 
fair — 
(A twilit plumed red-bird on the wing) 
To trouble my long tranquil slumbering . . . 
Yea, I shall be at rest who had to bear 

Beauty too keen and pain that had no 

end . . . 
Earth will have taken me again to 
friend . . . 



[112] 



I HAVE LOVED QUIET 

T HAVE loved quiet in a leafy glade 
-*" Where boughs embrace above a flow- 

ering way, 
Deep amber pools at sunset where the 
stray 
Soft twilight colors stain the willow shade, 
And woodlands where sweet silence dwells. 
vain 
Is all the clamor of the human throng, 
For beauty visits in the halcyon long 
Still voiceless hours, which soothe a spirit's 

pain. 
O I have ever loved the silent space 

On mountain-top where man has never 

trod — 
The lofty summits green and near to God 
Where mighty pines their giant shadows 
trace. 
Yea, I have found in silence sanctuary 
As running rivers mingle with the sea ! 



[113] 



SERENE 

/^ LET me meet my days with quiet grace 
^-^ Unshrinking in the battle as a youth 
Who bears within his heart a torch of 
truth 
And fearless goes to meet death face to 

xace • • • 
So would I, in the long and still embrace 
Of Time, go onward with a heart serene 
Mindful of beauty and the High Unseen, 
Watchful of love and kindness and my place 
Here in this world, — a little shining space 
Betwixt two isles, earth and eternity 
Wherein at last all things are known to 
me . . . 
O let me meet my days with quiet grace 
So all who gaze on me may truly say : 
"Lo, there is one who walked in Beauty's 
way !" 



[114] 



FRANCE REARISEN 

'* Andre Tardieu has given us a picture of in- 
exhaustible France." — Daily News Item. 

TpRANCE rearisen! Hail to a martyred 
■■■ land, 

Once ravaged by the German cannon flame, 
When but a year ago the gray hordes came 
Sweeping in millions like a demon band 
Across the flowering fields, till God's own 
hand 
Quelled their immense and ominous ad- 
vance ! 
O pillaged homes! ruined towns of 
France, 
fallen shrines ! devastated strand 
The barbarous multitudes so cruelly 
planned — 
You are unchanged! your splendour has 

not died — 
The spirit's luminance no power can hide, 
Beauty unconquerable, thro' ages spanned 
Whose noble strength we hail, O glorious 

land — 
France rearisen in her august pride ! 



[115] 



I HAVE LOVED BEAUTY 

T HAVE loved beauty ; as a deer at bay 
"*■ Exults in freedom, in the white birch- 
shade, 

Darting before the sunset-spears, afraid 
Lest mighty huntsmen make his breast their 

prey. 
Yea, I have gone the far untrodden way. 

Seeking forever loveliness as mine 

Amid the music of the mountain pine. 
Amid the paths of sumach where the stray 
Wild woodlands held the fragrance of the 
sod 

And silence was a benediction sweet. 

I have followed the wind's flying feet 
Unto the throne of beauty which was God 

Finding in some still starry hour apart 

The voice of wonder singing in my heart! 



[116] 



GIFTS 

TT'OR these I shall be thankful on this day: 
■*■ Warm spreading sun and flowers that 

brightly bloom, 
The breath of scented Springtime in my 
room, 
The radiant sky of blue above my way. 
Swift winds that sweep the clouds across the 
bay 
And sounds that pulse the earth with sud- 
den song — 
Peepers and whipoorwills, and birds, whose 
long 
Sweet notes spill golden harmonies of May! 
These but the symbol of a greater thing — 
The warm blood in my veins, the eager 

heart 
Which at each touch of loveliness feels 
start 
A quickened rapture singing with the Spring. 
Oh, above all intensely shall I prize 
The Gift of Life, supreme, through 
Beauty's eyes ! 



[117] 



GLEMENCEAU'S HOME— STAMFORD 

r\ NOBLE son of France, upon this soil 
^^ Your footsteps trod in true humility; 
Your voice once echoed down this flowery- 
lea 
Memorial of the hands of Pilgrim toil. 
Yea, on this spot where June her beauty 
yields 
The richness of your spirit came to birth. 
Before War's hoary monster shook the earth, 
Before the blood of millions stained the fields. 
Oh, honored we, who knew your storied mind 
And touched its treasures, e'er that hour 

should be 
When, master of the whole world's destiny, 
Your clarion tones a righteous Peace defined 
That centuries might Justice know, and 

praise 
A deathless wisdom imaged in God's ways! 



[118] 



EDWIN MARKHAM 

pkEEP-BROWED and resolute, he stands 
•*-^ apart 

Like some great monarch mountain in the 

snow 
One with the mystery of the winds that 
blow, 
His soul alit with wonder, and his heart 
Rich with deep human love — the counterpart 
Of all earth's grandeur, kindred of the sun 
When light mounts heavenward as day is 
done. 
Resplendent spirit, whose mighty voice did 

start 
Throbbing throughout the world an Attic 
spring — 
Not Pan with a reed, but Triton with his 

horn 
Tiptoe upon the rosy sands of morn, 
Shattering the air with glorious trumpeting ! 
So does he stand majestic and apart 
With Beauty singing ever in his heart. 



[119] 



A MOTHER TO HER SON 

^OU are the star that guides me in the 
-*" night 

When Winter chills my heart and when the 

Spring 
Is vanished, and the robins no more 
sing ... 
Oh, then in silence do I seek the light 
Your presence sheds, and walk within the 
white 
Sweet alleys of your smile. son of mine 
You are the little moment of divine 
That God has given me for my delight. 
Deep is the comfort of your tiny hand 
When soft it lies upon my weary heart, 
When soft your kisses fall upon the smart 
Where pain has been. Your love is fairyland 
Wherein I dwell serene and glad to be 
The idol of your boyhood's constancy ! 



[120] 



FINIS 

nPHERE is so much sorrow, 
"*• And I am tired 
Of everything 

That I desired . . . 

I would like a little niche 
In a green, green wall, 

And sleep would be 
The end of all. . . . 



[121] 



DEDICATION 

{for Donald) 

"VrOU speak contentment to my weary heart 
•*■ Like stars at twilight when the flam- 
ing day 
Far in the west is paling into gray, 
And when the homing birds in silence dart 
Into the sheltering woods as chill winds start. 
Yea, when I look upon your beauty near 
I am serene and comforted of fear 
For sorrow leaves me with its aching smart, 
And earth with music fills, and gentle peace 
Enfolds me like a vision of divine, 
And loveliness becomes forever mine 
In these calm hours of consummate release. 
No more shall I in lonely seeking roam 
But find in you my spirit's tranquil home! 



[122] 



7'^HANKS are due the following firms for the 
reprinting of poems already in their use: 
Schirmer 6f Sons; Geo, H. Doran Co.; Jas, T. 
White & Co.; ''Hearsts'' Magazine; John Lane 
Co.; Mitchell Kennerley; ''Ainslee's*' Magazine; 
''Harper's'' Magazine; Smart Set Co.; Rand Mc 
Nally Co.; Macmillan Co.; ''New York Herald'*; 
*'New York Sun"; Huntziger & Dilworth; "Mun- 
sey's" Magazine; "Holland's" Magazine; "The 
Manchester Journal"; "Town and Country": 
Houghton Mifflin Co. 



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